People kept coming and going, and Quinn had very little patience for it. Concern, happiness, a desire to help. She doesn't care what it is that draws them to the Abernathy house, she just wants them to leave them alone. She has barely moved from the bed, only ever daring when she needs to find her way to the bathroom as the crude stitches across the underside of her belly bring her discomfort. But it's worth it.

It was all worth it.

No matter her annoyance, it is difficult for any to put out the light that has returned to her eyes. When she isn't staring at the infant they brought into this world, she is watching her husband with all the love she possesses. Her fingertip trails down Finn's nose, a small, delighted smile upon her lips. "Is everyone gone?"

"No. Don't touch me," Quinn had grit her teeth through what she continually thought was the worst pain of her life, only to find herself feeling worse and worse. And Mary, ever present, kept trying to comfort her. She simply isn't having it. "I want.. ugh." Pushing herself up, she groans as she walks outside, groaning quietly as she suppresses her already revved up emotions.

A wide smile spreads at his affectionate attention, and Quinn relishes in this moment, no matter how uncomfortable she may be. ďI donít know. I donít know what to expect.Ē Gritting her teeth slightly, she glances down at her stomach, ďIím just so ready.Ē

"Mmm.. yes." She smiles despite her discomfort, moving to tuck a pillow between her knees before tucking her arms beneath her head. A slow breath is taken, and she exhaled in the same fashion. "Keep doing that. It feels nice."

Quinn waddles her way to the door when she sees Gideon approaching. This would be the first time she's seen him today. Behind her, soft music would play, different from her usual tunes. A cassette she had found near the market, of slower, easier music. Dinner would be laid upon the table, and sat on the counter a cake that she and Sam made together. But first, him.

She would meet him in front of the house, hands reaching up to take his face in her hands as she gently guides him closer. And, after a soft, lingering kiss, she smiles that same adoring smile she has just for him. "Happy Birthday, Giddy."

"Mhmm.. a year." Quinn smiles contentedly as she is pulled in, held, and loved. These are the moments she loves most, and exactly what she strives for. A kiss is pressed to his cheek before her lips press to his ears in a whispered promise. "Until the end."

Giddy, we might not be able to undo what he did, but we can make up for what we can. I got it covered. Promise. And just so you know, she adores you. She might like you more than me.
Itíll be fine. Ignatious sounds like an honest name, and names are everything. I bet weíll be friends in no time. Whenís he arriving?

Every child wants and deserves to be celebrated. Husbands, too.
We have a lot of regulars, Giddy. Iím sure heís just the same. This will be fun. Whatís his favorite food? He isnít a vegetarian, is he? Iíll make up the spare room for him. What do you want me to tell Sam? Are all new members going to live with us?

Her eyes, watery with her laughter, rise to meet Gideon's. One hand pressed to her stomach as if that alone might hold her together, she lifts the other to wipe a tear from her cheek. "I'm sorry," she chuckles. "It's just.. it's the party goblin."

Fighting back her laughter, she offers her phone to him, takes in a deep breath, slowly exhales, and repeats the cycle once more. By the end, her giggles have ceased, but the giant smile on her face persists. "I'm sorry."

Quinn's giggles can be heard a mile away. They are so loud that it would appear she isn't aware of it. And she isn't, truth be told. With noise canceling headphones on, she wouldn't hear a thing as she watches her funny new cartoon.

Never mind how she got access. She's not proud of her piracy practices here.

Really? I thought it was fun. Like that cartoon.
And those super spicy ones. The ones you have to sign a waiver for.
But only slightly less spicy, because Iím not signing anything.
Also, itís really just me.
Celery would be nice, too.

Today is a big day. Not for Quinn, but for Gideon? Huge. So, while her husband would attend to business, Quinn enlists the help of Sam and a couple women at their home. Upon his return, he would find an embarrassing display of colorful decorations from plates and napkins, all the way to an rather loud hanging sign that reads ĎWorlds Best Dadí in big, bold letters. And, upon the table in the very center of platters of a variety of Cheetos and other unhealthy snack foods, is a gift bag.

Inside, he would find staples such as a coffee mug that echoes the signage above, a keychain that reads ĎDaddyí, and other little trinkets. And, at the very bottom, a t-shirt reading ĎOriginalí in big black letters and a tiny onesie to match, that calls out a single word: Remix.

Both, in blue.

And, alone to revel in her mastery, Quinn works on dinner while she waits for Gideonís arrival. When he arrives, he would find the radio turned up, his pregnant wife bouncing about in the kitchen singing as she cooks, her excitement palpable.

"Yes. They tell us. They tell us, so we can be prepared for whatever might come our way." She is trying so, so hard not to be snappy. Deep down, Quinn understands that this is not his way of life. She knows that she is the minority. But with everything going on in her body... it is difficult.

"I don't want to find out our child has a peanut allergy when she suddenly can't breathe because her throat has swelled. Or when her body goes into shock because of a bee sting."

So many words. Quinn doesn't exactly have a history of being this passionate or stubborn about anything. But, again, she can't help her emotions. So, pinching the bridge of her nose, she puts it all out there. "I'm not going to gamble her life. I won't do it."

Quinn takes a deep breath as she reads the final message, a groan escaping her as she exhales. She can feel the hot tears building up under the stress of everything they'd just talked about, and she bows her head as she forces herself to retain them. "You got this... you got this, Quinn. You can do this."

Snatching up her bag, she calls out to let Noli know she is going, and then walks outside to toward the cars. Upon seeing Gideon, she takes another deep breath, trying her very best not to lose it completely. It's only when she gets in the car and they are out of the commune that she lets. it. out.

"These visits are to make sure our baby is healthy. Being able to find out is just a perk." She can feel herself vibrating with pent up upset, and staring at the road is doing nothing for her. "If you don't want to know, that's fine."

Giddy
I'm sorry. :/ I'll just wait to hear back from her and go from there, okay? And two large Taco pizzas. Extra sour cream. No mushrooms. Extra cheese. And make sure they have black olives. And jalapeŮos.

New home. New faces. New life. Everything feels lighter. Until, of course, she feels the brush of a hand across her backside as she makes lunch for two (and a half). Bowing her head slightly, she grins and purposely fails to react, waiting for the man to continue moving before picking up a towel and spinning around to crack it toward his, careful not to hurt him. All the while, she is laughing. And it feels good.

ďJust five more months of weird food, right?Ē Her sights rove over his face, taking in his obvious disdain for her cravings. Itís not her fault they taste delicious.

ďWe are kind of a package deal, huh? That sounds perfect. A picnic.Ē She gifts him a wide smile. Stretching where she sits, Quinn reaches her arms overhead before letting them drop to her lap once more. ďIíll get a blanket and stuff.Ē

ďWell yes, but it is so fast.Ē It is pretty clear she had been completely unprepared for this. Quinn hasnít exactly been obsessing over every little thing, googling nonstop, or tracing each step in some phone app. There hasnít even been a picture taken. ďItís like Alien. Without the whole thing, you know?Ē

She gestures to her stomach, clearly having a specific scene in mind. Only then would her gaze lift, meeting his. A moment of silence follows his question as she weighs her options. What she really wants is in the garden. She knows what happens there. She avoids it as best she can. But to her knowledge, no one has died here, so the odds are likely in her favor. ďTomatoes. And more saltines. Please. ...Franks Hot Sauce, too.Ē

Pausing, Quinn chews at her lip. Since she is making requests... ďAnd a date. You and me.Ē

She can tell he is struggling with himself, just by the sound of his breath. Watching as Sarah helps a pathetic John out of the schoolhouse, Quinn letís out a matching sigh. She turns, gaze lowering. ďItís okay, Giddy. I donít think itís true. He was just fine five minutes ago.Ē

She listens to his instructions intently, reading between the lines and understanding in her own way what Gideonís endgame is. Kyle. ďIíll get him. And Iíll just... Iíll sleep in Noliís room until you come back to me. Itíll be okay. I promise.Ē
Despite it all, a slight smile pulls at the corners of her mouth and reaches her eyes. ďI love you, Gideon. Be safe.Ē

"You do?" It is clear that Quinn is happy. The sooner he finds this place, the sooner he returns. The sooner he returns, the sooner she is whole again. A wide smile has taken it's residence, and a sense of ease takes over.

'Messenger!'

Her head lifts, and Quinn pushes off the tree as she turns her head from left to right looking for the source of the voice calling out. They call out again, and she starts walking toward the nearby voice. "How soon is soon?"

Unwilling to hang up just yet, she finds the source just outside the school house. Sarah. She almost cringes at the sight. The woman doesn't even seem to care about the phone pressed to Quinn's ear as she begins rambling her tale that could be summed up in three words: John is sick.

"Okay. Um. Sarah, take him back to... take him to the house." Regret is clear as she gives her instruction, and Quinn watches as the woman rushes off and into the schoolhouse to collect the suspiciously infirm man. Then, she addresses her husband on the phone. "Did you hear all that?"

Heís fine. Everything is fine. Quinn practically melts into the tree, chocolate hues casting about her surroundings before she answers his questions. ďIím okay. I miss you. Out of Cheetos. But everything is fine. We are fine.Ē

We. As in herself, and their unborn.

Chewing at her lip for a moment, she lets out a sigh. ďJohn has been sitting in on classes. And people are restless. But itís okay. I got this.Ē She watches as two residents walk by, smiling momentarily as she presses a hand to her stomach. ďHave you found anything good?Ē

She audibly breathes. Sniffing, she begins to walk away from the schoolhouse, giving room between herself and any prying ears. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It was a strange number and I couldn't decide what to do, but then Wyoming."

Stopping, she leans into a tree and lowers her head. "Gideon, where are you? Are you safe? Are you okay?"

Downtrodden, Quinn is retreating back into the classroom when her phone chimes again. This time, it indicates a message. Again, the faces turn around to see their Messenger. Again, she excuses herself and walks outside.

The message she reads says enough, and there is no stopping the happy tears that well within her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she opens her call log and presses on her last call.

Class. Quinn is sat in the corner of the classroom, watching on as Noli teaches. In reality, she is learning from the woman just as much as the children are. Her sister connects so much better than she does. In the opposite corner, like an opponent in a boxing ring, sits John Abernathy. Her gaze shifts to him every few minutes, breath baited as it has been for days.

Her mind is plagued. Where is Gideon?

Her phone lights up promptly, and a tone interrupts the class. Quinn is slow to react, not expecting such a thing, and she looks down before looking up at all the faces that have now turned to her. "I'm sorry. Excuse me."

Without a second thought, she steps out of the small schoolhouse, but not nearly far enough away. Gaze fixed on the screen, she tries to determine the best course of action. Few know her number now. Fewer still, contact her. It could be a number of dangers reaching out to her...

Or it could be Gideon.

Biting into her lip, she decides to throw caution to the wind, but is too late. The call is missed.

Quinn has been forced to neutralize two arguments and ask one of Gideonís more trusted to break up a fight between two residents so far. The divide between the Flock is becoming clear, and she has witnessed Johnís slow rise to leadership. But still, with Noliís support, she persists through her own preoccupation: her husband.

Giddy
Are you okay? How are things going? When are you coming back? Where are you? Can we just go to Wyoming?

Quinn nearly cringes as he states his status. Despite a lack of will to voice it, she came to terms long ago with the fact that they would never escape this life. She made their bed, and she would share it with him.

"What do you mean, until you get back? Giddy, you can't go alone." Pressing her lips together, she comes to the realization that there would be no talking him out of this. He would go, do what he needs, and come back. Quinn would remain, and she would have to step up her game. And so, she nods.

"I do, baby. I know. I love you, Gideon." And just like that, Quinn would remain. A kiss would be placed upon his lips before she pulls herself up and moves to give him her lap as a place to rest his head. She would text Noli, begging her to come, and together, the girls would get him home. Tomorrow, she would revisit this with him.

"Giddy, we can't.. we have to go. We can just go. Noli is sober, and the two of us can drive in shifts." But he continues, capturing her gaze with his own. He talks about doing better, being better, and her confusion shows. But then, he talks about their child. This is something she isn't quite used to, but it makes her love him more. She didn't think that possible, but every day, she is proven wrong.

The minute he reclaims his place upon the ground, she is scooting close and inspecting his wound. Her fingers barely touch to his cheek, hovering around the area. "I'll sell the house.." she murmurs, already affirming whatever aid she can give him. Returning to her childhood home had only ever been a pipe dream, and she knows it.

Despite her own panic, now isn't the time to go into full on theatrics. That does not, however, stop the tears that threaten to fall. Stress does that to her, now. "What are we going to tell the Flock, baby? They'll hunt us if we run." It is so hard not to toss her cookies, all over again.

Her chicken and Cheetos had been a success. Partially. Quinn found herself tossing it up mere minutes after finishing her dinner. She'd tried to wait for Gideon, but she was just so hungry and it smelled so good. It still would have been better with hot sauce, but she still has no regrets.

Quinn has officially reached the second trimester, and with that comes the promise of a complete lack of these less-wanted side effects. The nausea, the fatigue, the headaches, and hopefully dramatics, would cease shortly. At least, that is what all the websites say. But hey, at least she is starting to show just a tiny bit. No longer did the murmurs surround her, questioning the truth behind her claim.

Her gaze finds Noli's, and she offers up a shrug accompanied by a small smile. What more could be said? The two barely need to speak anymore in order to understand one another. "Is it possible to brush your teeth too much?"

Her phone chimes, and she finds it on the table, glancing over it before letting out a small sigh. Her smile grows, loving the idea of fresh air and time with Gideon. It doesn't dawn on her that this is more than what it seems.

Giddy
Be right there. 😘
Excusing herself, Quinn takes her leave, stepping out into the night. The walk is short, and Quinn barely notices the lack of others. No women. No children. Only a few men, outside their homes. She smiles at them, bidding them a good evening, doing her duty with care. Reaching the garden, she wordlessly finds him, bringing herself down to lay beside him. "You smell like liquor, and copper," she sniffs, amused. But that is only before she spots the bleeding wound upon his handsome face.

"Giddy," Quinn whispers, bringing herself closer to get a better look. Her heart beats hard and fast within her chest, breath picking up pace. "What happened? Did John do this? One of his friends?"

Giddy
Yes that night. But I donít remember using my phone like that. I was reading. And two glasses of wine is nothing. Itís not moonshine. I wasnít drunk. I must have texted her at some point. Itís the only way. And she isnít crazy. Sheís really nice.

ďTired.Ē The word escapes her just before a small yawn, and Quinn turns her head to cover her mouth with her palm before righting herself once more.

Tearing her gaze away from him, she sits back in her seat, looking down at her currently flat stomach. Everything is going to change. Quinn wonders, briefly, if he will cease to seek her company once her condition becomes apparent. ďNervous. Unprepared.Ē

Quinn has never been quite so honest, or so very down on herself. More than anything else, she has never felt so out of control, and a lump forms in her throat. ďAre you going to stop wanting me?Ē

Quinn takes a seat at the table, her gaze following the mug in his hand. She can smell it, picking up the bitter scent of coffee and the sugary sweetness of liquor. It makes her stomach churn, and she takes a deep breath as if steeling herself.

She lets herself lean into the table, resting her chin upon the heel of her palm as she continues to watch him. Quinn knows she should be happy, but her fear is far too great. This was not supposed to happen, not here. Not now. ďAbout nine weeks. They confirmed it.Ē

Her brow knits together, and she finds herself wanting nothing more than to seek comfort in him. Still, she doesnít move. ďHow are you feeling?Ē

The phone is pulled from it's place, and Quinn ends the call before stepping into the kitchen where she finds Gideon with coffee. It'd been an okay day, so far. Not the same, but better than she expected. Clearing her throat, she offers him a small smile. Staying positive is key.

"All the blood tests came back good... the nurse said we're in perfect health." We. We, as in not just herself and Gideon anymore. Quinn isn't quite sure how to feel just yet. "It's um.. the... everything looks really strong."

Giddy
I think itís pretty.
How could it possibly get worse? Iíve lied us into a bad place. But maybe it could be good. Right? This could turn out good?
Are you sure?
I donít feel like I got this.
Just tell me I can one more time.

Giddy
Itís short for Magnolia. And youíre not scary. I donít know how to get her to the commune. How do you talk someone into that? Am I bad for this? Does this make me a bad person? Should I just be honest? Honesty is supposed to be the best policy.

ďNo,Ē she speaks quietly. He isnít pleased at all, and she can tell. Quinn knows him. And while this had not been part of the plan, in fact the exact opposite, there is no part of her that finds these earth shattering. She is scared, not upset. ďTheyíll ask about family history, probably. Illnesses, if any. But only if they need to.Ē

Gaze lifting, she looks him over. The way he moves, how anxious he looks. ďThey wonít ask for identification or anything like that. Just mine.Ē

Heart pounding, she sucks in a shuddering breath. ďGiddy, Iím so sorry. Are you angry?Ē

Gideon sits only after finishing his drink, and then pours another, and Quinn finds herself sitting as well. Hands laced together in her lap, she stares down at them, any trace of a smile long gone as her brow knits together. She is expecting a great many things from him, remembering well their talks about children.

It isn't fair to bring them into a world like this. It is selfish, and dangerous, and only leads to heartbreak and trouble. There are a great many things she should have done to prevent this conversation. "I'd be lying if I said no. I'm a little scared, to be honest. But I'd rather you be comfortable, or as much as you can be. Whatever you think best, Giddy."

Quinn has not stopped watching him. Though she has risen from the table, and begun to stack plates in preparation of taking them to the sink to be washed, she's watching him in her peripheries. So, when he stops once more, looking at her once more with that look, Quinn finds herself almost pained. She cannot help but wonder if he is upset with her. The thought alone is more stress than she is willing to admit to. The young woman can handle many things, but that is something she can never seem to bear.

At his question of her health, she shakes her head gently, worry clear in her wide eyes. "No. I'm not sick." It's a lie. Quinn had told a lie. She really, really did. Yet, sucking in a deep breath, she stops fussing with the table. "I'm late. By two weeks. It's probably stress, with everything that's been happening."

'They already don't trust us.'
Quinn nods, taking his word as it is: final. While she is definitely her own woman, crossing Gideon is never something she aspires to. If he believes it would put them in trouble, then so it would. He is the expert in this arena, and she the lamb. "Of course, you're right."

And that is that.

But, as he is taking his leave, he stops. His gaze returns to her, and those warm, chocolatey depths meet his gaze. It seems his mind has changed, noting the need for a nurse. Which is true, especially considering the closest thing to any sort of medical professional at the commune are the women.

"That would be smart," she agrees. "And I do have someone in mind. She's a teacher from Cocodrie. But Giddy, since we're on the subject, do you think I could go see an actual doctor...?"

Quinn is in a rut. The children are being pulled out of school. Members of the cult are being kind out of necessity, she feels, though they take care to be gentle with her given her condition. Pregnancy gave her a means to bond with the women, or at least those willing. But most of her days are spent with Evelyn, who has yet to call Quinn out on her lie.

Her desire to fit in here is only more intense now, and she feels a large part of their failures are no ones fault but her own.

So, as they sit at the table, bellies full from their meal, she meets Gideon's gaze timidly. "Giddy, it feels like no one much cares for me. I'm an outsider, and I don't want to be. But... they don't see I'm trying. I just want to make you proud."

She chews at her lip for a moment, gaze falling on the small glass of liquor before him. Quinn misses that, but being pregnant, she must not imbibe. "What if I had someone to help acclimate here? They might see it, then."

She is happy as a clam, or as much as she can be, current state. Quinn lets the well-loves cassette play songs she has heard a thousand times now as she sweeps the floor. A bright smile crosses her features at the sight of him, incapable of sensing the trepidation in the air. Setting aside the broom, pile of dust forgotten beneath their feet, she is easily pulled into him. Her own arms would wrap around him instinctively, warm and relaxed.

He speaks, and everything becomes still. Seconds would pass feeling like minutes, Gideonís words permeating through her mind. Thoughts circle around them, laced with sorrow and guilt. A familiar lump appears in her throat, and Quinn swallows as her arms tighten around her husband.

And then, she shuts down. Quinn takes a deep breath, exhaling her fears, and lifts her head to look up at Gideon. ď...Dinner should be ready in about an hour.Ē

Nearly a year after being reunited, one would think a lesson would be learned. The sun would beat down through the window and onto Quinnís face, demanding her to wake. A single quiet groan would escape the girl before she rolls to turn her back to the morning. ďToo much. We drank too much,Ē she yawns. ďToday is canceled.Ē

There's no smile when he reads her telling final text, and it takes all Quinn has not to sigh as she sees the look in his eye. He isn't pleased. Or he is, but still displeased by her method of sharing this information.

Her gaze shifts downward as he speaks, and soft 'sorry' is mumbled before she raises those chocolate hues once more... only to see his perfect, charming smile. On the coldest of days, his smile would easily bring her warmth.

She blinks at the message, head tilting as she attempts to decide if he is being funny or not. But Quinn decides to stay on the side of caution, and excuses herself from Evelynís home to set out to find him. It takes longer than expected, that much is sure. But she finds him, and finds her way beside him as he listens to a man whose name escapes her. Patient, she waits until the conversation is done and he man is walking away. She pulls out her phone, types her message, and looks up at the man.

Quinn is in the thick of the maze when Gideon comes in, so engrossed that it would likely take an act of God to bring her awareness of her surroundings. Thankfully, it comes in the form of a kiss pressed atop her head. Smiling, she dogears the page and sets the face down, a precaution in case of unexpected visitors.

Words are needless, and she watches as he comes into view and takes his seat. Quinn expects nothing. She never does. It isn't because she thinks he is incapable, or uncaring, but because having him is all she really wants or needs. No matter the challenges they face, she always finds the world a little duller when he isn't near. That said, when he places the box before her, she eyes him curiously, the corners of her mouth turning upward just a bit more.

"Giddy, you didn't have to..." she murmurs, lifting the box up with great care. Glancing up at him, she lets out a quiet laugh, knowing that waiting for her is probably making him feel anxious, or impatient. But when she opens it, and sees the obviously handcrafted work, she finds herself looking between the ring and him several times before finally taking it out of it's resting place.

Box sat upon the table, she turns the ring within her grasp, taking in each endearing bit of character it possesses. But, when she finds the engraving, she reads it several times over. Bright smile far from fading, there is no stopping the tears that threaten to spill at the words. "I love you, Gideon."

Quinn, despite everything, is in the mood for today. It's their first Valentine's Day together, and she wants to make sure he has a good one. She wondered for a long time if he had ever celebrated before, then deciding she doesn't care. This is theirs.

When he gets home, he would find her sitting at the table waiting patiently as reads a The Goblet of Fire. And, upon the table, is a tabletop s'mores maker, fixings delicately displayed around it as it waits to be fired up and used. An enveloped card, waiting for Giddy, with a garden adorning the front and a hallmark message in side. What really matters is the writing inside.

You'll always be my Giddy.

But first... he would find tickets to a late tour at Marie Laveau's Mansion.

She frowns as she watches him, listening and feeling that sudden onset of isolation. Her arms cross, wrapping around herself as if forming some sort of cocoon. ďYes you are... I have a responsibility to you... we...Ē

But then it really changes. Gideon takes her words, her outlook on people, and turns it into something ugly. Her cheeks flush, and it takes everything she has in her to keep from cringing. Quinn has never been made to feel shame, and yet here she is. As if her entire world, all her beliefs, are the cause of her husbands suffering.

Not a word would be said. Those big chocolate hues, dim and without their shine, would tear away from him before she turns tail to walk out the door. There would be no driving away from the compound, but instead what would appear to be a simple evening stroll. Quinn has no idea where she will go, but if he wants to be alone, she would leave him alone.

A quiet sigh escapes her. Quinn had been mildly excited at the prospect of a girls night... but not enough to overlook the turn their texts had taken. Reaching up to take his face in her hands, she gently rakes her fingertips through the his scruff. "And you're my present and future, and my responsiblity."

It is one of those rare, insightful moments for Quinn. They have been far less rare now, her days far from carefree and instead, careful. "I don't see the value in expecting the worst, or looking for it. People give you what you give them, Giddy." Her hands drop from his face, landing her palms to his shoulders. "And I'm not stuck here, either. Not so long as I have you."

Quinn peers at him curiously, gaze cutting once or twice to the trash can. He is smoking. She didn't know Gideon did that. How did she not know? A pang of guilt hits her like a ton of bricks. Had she not been paying close enough attention?

Determined to do better, she steps up to him, tentatively finding some sort of confidence. Chocolate hues rake over his face before meeting those black depths. She sucks in her bottom lip momentarily, deciding just how to tell him that he is always her priority. It takes a moment, but she finds them. "You are my plan."

Quinn reads the message, knowing very well how difficult it had been for Gideon to send such a thing. In truth, she hasn't been good to him. Not like he deserves.

GiddyRead 8:44PM

Instead, she would trek home, finding her way to the man who cares for her deeply. So much, in fact, that he would let her do as she pleases despite his feelings on any matter. She pushes open the door, and steps inside quietly. There is a large amount of deja'vu in this moment. More than she would like to admit. "Giddy?"

Tiber? The name rang a few bells, enough to send Eiji flitting through his phone for a particular picture he had taken. While his time with the Den wasn't a particularly lengthy one, it was meaningful. He spent long hours haunting the grounds there, communing with the transient spirits that came and went.

One in particular had given Eiji a hard time for constantly trudging through its domain, at least until he had paid it's desired due. The picture he sought was of exactly this; a sapling, nigh three feet tall last he'd checked.

"Planted this about a kilometer west of the Den. Where you want is another half-kilo north-east from there, if memory serves."

Gideon's business was his own; Eiji wouldn't pry. Something told him it was best the details eluded him anyway.

Giddy
Thank you. I promise I wonít go anywhere without someone, and I wonít ever be alone with him. I promise that if something happens, and I donít think it will, I will do whatever I have to in order to protect myself. And I promise you, Giddy, it will be okay.

Giddy
I donít know what changed but Iím telling you, something is off. Heís docile. And we are safe, because we are protected. So please, I am begging you Giddy, trust my gut. Letís just get through this trip and enjoy it. Let me find out what is going on because if something has changed, we can finally be free. No one is getting hurt. I promise you.

His text is resolute, and more than anything, Quinn understands what is happening. He is putting on a good face for her, and she appreciates it. These are the gentle reminders that her Gideon is still hers.

She canít help it. She frowns at the screen. Quinn is faced with a real predicament, as it is quite clear that Gideon is looking for an out. He does not want to go. It is that simple. If he doesnít want to go, he will be miserable. If he is miserable, she will be as well. Shutting the door of the bed, she leans against the frame and makes her decision. After this, she would need to stay close. It is now her responsibility to save Gideon. Alienating him now with her own persistent nature is going to make it worse.

Giddy
I thought you knew. Iím sorry 😔
Baby, I can stay with you. I donít have to go.

The same thing is repeated, and Quinn is sure there is no way she will win. But then, Gideon zigs rather than zags, and she is left stunned. For just a couple days, they would be hundreds of miles away from this place. There would be no hurried return, no calls, no worries of being followed.

She steps up, arms wrapping around his middle as she leans into him, resting her cheek against his back. She can feel his anxiety at the prospect of leaving, and all she can do is love him, and be grateful.

His smile falters, and so does hers. Quinn allows her hands to fall away as he turns his attention toward a book. Swallowing, she listens, chocolate hues turning downward. Will they ever both leave? Will this ever be over? "It's been years since we've seen her." A gentle reminder that he, too, was once part of the same community as her well before the Flock and Valar.

Folding her hands before her, she stares at his back, "Giddy, look at me. I miss you. Please, lets go..."

He wouldn't call this work? Quinn has to bite back her confusion as she thinks of him, and the cult, and their vow to each other to get out. Instead, she focuses the positive.

He's in a good mood, and it plays in her favor. These days are few and far between, lately. Quinn has missed his side of him. Fingertips playing at the scruff upon his jaw, she gives him that dazzled smile that always finds it's way when he turns the charm on high.

"Come with me," she's practically cooing, begging. "Please? I want to drink moonshine, and get crazy drunk, and have fun. With you. Please say yes, Giddy."

Giddy
Well, I haven't heard from her since before we got to New Orleans... so I don't know if she knows. But why does that matter? You're my Giddy.

Her stomach churns just a little at the thought of leaving him again. There is nothing more than Quinn wants to do than to force him to go with her, and never return to this damnable place. But she knows how much he loves that feeling of control, she can see the excitement in his eyes every time he stands before the Flock. Outside of their relationship, she has never seen him so inspired. It's terrifying, and awe inspiring, at all the same time.

She also knows that now that she has shown her hand, he won't let her simply stay. He loves her. Three dots would appear on his screen, but nothing would come. Instead, some minutes later, Quinn would appear and march herself right up to him - regardless of who might be around. Delicate hands reach upward, cradling his face, and without a word of warning she kisses him.

Giddy
I was going to transfer it back. And no. I didn't wreck the Uber. There was a charge increase because it was peak hours on a busy night and a longer drive. And I also wanted to see if you'd notice.

She doesnít like this. There is a sensation in the pit of her stomach that refuses to be overlooked, though she pushes it to the back of her mind. Would this be their lives? Miserable together at the compound, miserable apart in the real world? Sighing, Quinn folds, nodding gently. They need breaks. They deserve them.

Giddy
Okay... Iíll just drive home and Uber into the city. Spend the night. Iíll pick up somethings, too.